


i don't believe in fate

by blueaeons



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Multi, Slow Burn, aliens exist, dont ask why theres so many americans in cardiff, its a torchwood au, owen is immortal, soft, theyre a family, you dont need to have seen torchwood to understand it though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23733712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueaeons/pseuds/blueaeons
Summary: Owen Carvour died four years ago. Curt watched the life drain from his eyes, that's not something one can easily forget, let alone imagine. Yet here he is, standing in front of him like it was all a bad dream.--The Torchwood AU that no one asked for that I'm writing anyway. You don't need to have seen the show to understand it!
Relationships: Barb Lavernor/Tatiana Slozhno, Cynthia Houston & Agent Curt Mega, Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Comments: 11
Kudos: 51





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> hi and welcome to the torchwood au that i am writing because fun. before we begin, here are a few little things you should know abt the story and torchwood!
> 
> \- curt's mum and cynthia are now twins, making cynthia curt's aunt  
> \- here's a video that sums up torchwood pretty well if you're interested https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZVUhJSuu2hk  
> \- owen is immortal, like captain jack of torchwood  
> \- retcon is a drug that wipes peoples memories  
> \- a weevil is an alien  
> \- two em dashes is a change in pov, one is just a scene change
> 
> hope you enjoy!

_“Owen! Owen. It’s ok, I’m here. Don’t you fucking dare Carvour- Please, just look at me. C’mon, please! No, no. Owen!”_

—

Curt didn’t know what to expect before visiting Cynthia.

He was in the country for the first time in a while, and his mother had insisted he visit his aunt. He was never really that close with her growing up, so all he really knew about her is that she’s strict as an army general and not someone to mess with.

But now Curt is here. Running down the street, Aunt Cynthia waving a gun threateningly at something that belongs in a horror movie. And she’s definitely stricter than any army general Curt has come across — and given his experience, it’s certainly saying something.

“Can you please explain what the hell that is?” Curt puffs, doubling over as they finally slow to a halt, the creature lying dead on the floor.

“Nope.” Curt gapes at her, slowly straightening himself. Quickly, she pulls out a phone, turning away from him. “Hey, Tati? Yeah I’m going to need you to bring the SUV around. Got a dead Weevil here.”

“A dead what?”

Cynthia ignores him, lifting a hand to silence him as whoever’s on the phone — Tati, he assumes — continues speaking.

“I’m only a few streets away, I can deal with it.” Curt is almost afraid to ask what the hell she’s going to deal with now. Whatever it is, it surely can’t be any worse than what’s lying on the pavement in front of them. “Thank fuck it’s nighttime, I do not have the patience to Retcon anyone today.”

“My mom said you worked for a security company!”

“I do, as far as she knows. Follow me. Don’t fall behind.”

All Curt can do is watch as Cynthia takes off again. After sighing, shaking his head, and taking one last look at the dead creature on the floor, he follows her.

—

Sitting back in Cynthia’s apartment, Curt is at a loss for words.

One moment, he thinks he’s in for a normal family visit, next he’s being old aliens exist. And have been living in the sewers of Cardiff for years.

“So you’re telling me, there’s a hole in space and time in the middle of Cardiff-”

“The Rift.”

“and your job is to stop the aliens that come through it?” Curt can’t help the disbelief lacing his words. In his defense, aliens. If he hadn’t seen one, he never would’ve believed it. He’s still not sure he does believe it.

“Took you long enough,” Cynthia snaps, standing up. “Shame that you won’t remember it in the morning.”

Curt frowns, mulling over the words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I spiked your drink, you won’t remember any of this in the morning. What else is it supposed to fucking mean?”

Eyes widening, Curt spits his mouthful of beer back into the glass, standing hastily. He’s sure he could’ve made some sort of smart remark, if he didn’t have whatever Cynthia drugged him with running through his body.

Instead he finds the world beginning to tilt, and his vision blacks out before he hits the ground.

——

“You didn’t give me Retcon, did you.”

“He’s your family, Cynthia.”

“And I’m your fucking boss, Tati.”

“Technically, you’re my boss’s boss.”

“Do I sound like I care for technicalities?”

“Listen, we need a field agent. He trained with the army. You already explained everything to him. Is that not perfect?”

“Fine. But you’ll be doing the paperwork.”

—

Curt winces as he slowly comes to, a dull aching in his head clouding his thoughts.

As he slowly tries to sit up, his neck twinges. Whatever he had fallen asleep on clearly wasn’t designed for sleeping. Which happens to be the floor, he realizes as he slowly opens his eyes.

He frowns, attempting to remember how he got here, and what he’s doing.

“Took you long enough to wake up.”

Oh. Right. Cynthia, the aliens, The Fucking Rift. The few hours in which he found out that not only do aliens exist, his only aunt makes a living fighting them.

Then, something dawns on him.

“Didn’t you say you wiped my memories?” Curt pulls himself up onto the couch, watching as Cynthia busies herself in the kitchen. The whole apartment is sparsely furnished, and looks unhomely. There are some boxes in the corner, full of what looks like unpacked belongings and the bin is full of takeaway containers. The TV doesn’t appear to be plugged in either, Curt notices. Cynthia must not spend much time at home.

“Looks like my staff are more stupid than I thought. You’ll fit right in.”

Curt fumbles as Cynthia tosses something in his direction, barely stopping it from hitting the ground. Turning it around in his hands, he skims over the words quickly.

“What is ‘Torchwood’ and why do I have an ID for it?”

Cynthia pauses what she’s doing — brewing coffee by the looks of it — to stare at him in what Curt thinks is disappointment. Not that he can ever accurately read what she’s thinking, especially when it comes to him.

“Torchwood? The agency I fucking work for, which I told you about like four hours ago you fucking noodle.”

Curt frowns, at a loss for words. Watching as Cynthia pours herself a cup of coffee, drinking it black, he eventually comes to his senses.

“I can’t just work for Torchwood, I have nowhere to stay! All my shit is in America,” Curt says, brandishing with his hand.

“America is in the other direction.”

Curt drops his arm, lifting the other one. He frowns at himself, before shaking his head.

“That doesn’t change my point,” he continues, pointing at Cynthia with his already raised arm.

Cynthia pauses, putting her mug down on the bench. Curt watches as she slowly shifts, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath.

“Listen. You have two options here. I wipe your memory for real and you go back to whatever dumbass retail job you’re working, or you put your training to good use for once and join us.” Cynthia’s eyes seem to soften, almost taking Curt by surprise. “And I can promise you, the things you’ll see in this job, Curt... They’re amazing.”

Curt falls back onto the couch, teasing his lower lip between his teeth. He has to admit, she has a point. He hates his life, his job, the fact he’s living in a granny flat of his mother’s house for christ's sake, how he wasn’t good enough for the army. He couldn’t even handle losing one person. How was he supposed to cope being surrounded by death?

“Ok. I’ll do it.”

——

“Cynthia dear, is something wrong?” Owen jogs along the metal catwalk, footsteps echoing through the open underground base. “You’re usually in by now.”

Owen, being the only member of Torchwood that lives in the Hub, has the work schedules of all his team members memorized. Cynthia is always punctual, arrives at eight and leaves at five. She’s the luckiest one. Her job is technically just to sign everything and make sure it’s all up to the Queen’s standards. She rarely goes on missions, and only gives input if absolutely necessary. It’s how she — and the rest of the team — like it. Hence why her office is on the level above, out of the way yet still in a place where she can see all of them. All of the time.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Cynthia sighs, and Owen thanks whatever god is listening that it’s not her disappointment sigh. Last time he heard that, he ended up dead on the floor. Quite literally. “We have a new member of the team.”

“Oh? Exciting.”

“Just make sure Barb doesn’t get distracted and is ready to give him a tour.”

Owen was about to ask more about who this mysterious new member is, but is cut off as the call ends.

“Don’t know why I even try,” he mutters before jogging down the steps, jumping the last few.

“Owen! Thought you were still sleeping,” Barb jumps, barely balancing the stack of papers in her arm.

“Hey, careful.” Owen smiles as he takes half the stack, placing it on her desk.

Barb is always the first person in, and the last person to leave — baring a world-ending emergency. Owen doesn’t know how she handles having so many projects at once, but he’s more than thankful for some of the inventions she’s made. Inventions that have saved his team more times than he can count.

“Any idea where Cynthia is? Her office light is still off.”

“About that,” Owen grins, leaning against the desk, “she’s bringing a new team member in.”

“Oh? I hope it’s another field agent, you and Tati really shouldn’t be out there alone.”

“Don’t forget Irene.”

“And Irene. Doesn’t change the fact we’re understaffed.”

“Anyway,” Owen pats her on the back with a grin, “you’re on tour duty.”

Owen begins to walk away, but pauses as he hears the sirens echoing from the Hub entrance. Whoever decided to have fucking alarms sound every time the door opens, Owen wishes they were still alive so he could kill them himself.

Turning around, Owen rests his forearms on the banister and watches as Cynthia enters the Hub.

And following her?

Owen freezes. He’s not even sure he’s breathing. Not that it would matter.

It can’t be.

——

“So to get in, just press the button behind the counter here,” Cynthia explains, attempting to reach over the office desk. Curt doesn’t have the heart, or the guts, to tell her that she isn’t tall enough to reach.

“You could’ve just asked me to do it.”

Curt jumps as someone pushes aside a bead curtain, entering the small tourist office. The cover is well put together, pamphlets lining the front and a small outdated computer sitting at a desk.

“Curt, meet Susan. Susan, Curt. Curt’s going to be joining us.”

“Nice to meet you,” Susan smiles, reaching a hand out across the desk, which Curt quickly shakes.

“You too,” Curt smiles. So far, so good.

“Head on down, the others are waiting for you.”

Curt all but jumps out of his skin as a grinding noise starts beside him, and he watches in awe as the once still wall slowly moves to reveal a hidden passage.

“So cool,” he murmurs, receiving a wink from Susan in response. “After you,” he eventually adds after noticing Cynthia staring.

Curt ignores her pointed eye roll, and instead chooses to focus on the… interesting design choices as he leaves the small office. The walls are all solid concrete, and lit by flickering overhead lights. At least the corridor doesn’t appear too long, ending at what Curt assumes is a lift.

“Of course the secret base is underground,” he murmurs, stepping into the lift beside Cynthia.

“You’re going to love this,” Cynthia says beside him, and Curt turns to see her almost grinning. Cynthia. Grinning.

“I never thought I’d see you so excited,” he scoffs.

“Don’t tell the others, but this is my favorite part of the job.”

Moments later, the lift comes to a halt and the door rolls open.

Curt doesn’t even know what to think when he first lays eyes on it. The base is large, with desks scattered around and technology he is certain isn’t from the 2000s. He sees some stairs heading downwards to what looks like a medical bay and what appears to be an office towards the back. Yet as his eyes land on the metal staircase, he freezes. Someone is standing there, someone who looks terrifyingly familiar.

That can’t be Owen.

Yet, Curt would recognise that face anywhere. That face that looks just as shocked to see him as he is. That face he saw the life drain out of four years ago.

He’s dead. This isn’t real.

Fuming, Curt turns to face Cynthia.

“Is this all just some sick joke? Did you seriously make that whole fucking story up just to get to this punchline?” Curt can feel his hands trembling, so he tightens them into fists. His fingernails dig into his palm, but he doesn’t notice the pain. “I knew you were cruel Cynthia, but this is just fucking messed up.”

“Curt, what the fuck are you-”

Curt doesn’t give her time to respond, storming back into the lift, wishing it would close faster.

Finally alone, Curt allows his legs to give out beneath him as he falls to the ground.

Four fucking years, and he’s still crying over him. Crying over what was nothing but an image, some messed up trick.

He should’ve known it was all too far-fetched to believe. He should’ve seen it coming.

——

Owen can’t move. He’s not sure he’s ever going to move again.

Curt had just left, crying, shaking. And Owen is still just standing there.

“Carvour? You mind explaining what just fucking happened to my nephew?”

Flinching at the sound of his name, Owen slowly walks down towards Cynthia.

“Your nephew is Curt Mega.”

“Wait, how the fuck do you know Curt?”

“Shit, Cynthia-”

“Owen, what the hell is going on here?”

Owen closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in sharply.

“Barb, don’t let him leave.”

“He’s standing out by the bay,” she calls back and Owen quickly shoves past Cynthia into the lift. He’s fucked up this time.

“May I ask why the recruit just ran out crying? I mean I know Cynthia is well, Cynthia but-”

“My fault this time, Susan,” Owen sighs, barely sending a backward glance as he runs out onto the bay.

Owen can feel his coat billow behind him as the smell of salt drifts towards him.

Curt didn’t get far Owen quickly realizes, seeing him sitting on the edge of the square. His legs dangle over the edge, and he rests his chin on the railing.

“Curt?”

“Whoever you are, piss off.”

“Dear, it’s me. It’s Owen.”

Owen isn’t sure what to do, so he stays standing a few meters away. His hand hovers outstretched, hanging awkwardly.

It’s been four years, Curt has no reason to believe it’s him.

It’s been four years, Owen thought he was over him.

Yet seeing Curt in front of him, Owen is thrown back to the time they had. The love they had.

“I watched Owen die. I was at his funeral.”

Owen sighs, sitting beside him. “I hate that I put you through that Curt.”

“What did Owen say after our first kiss?”

“‘I thought you were kidding’.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

Owen watches as Curt scrubs his cheeks, rubbing the tear tracks away before slowly turning to look at him.

——

Scanning his eyes over Owen’s face, any trace of disbelief is gone. He’s exactly how he remembered, from the slightly crooked jaw to the scar on his forehead.

But all that’s there to replace his doubt is anger.

“You let me think you were dead for four years.” Curt grabs the railing, pulling himself to his feet. “Why would you do that?”

“I didn’t have a choice Curt, this job-”

“Was more important than us?” Curt watches as Owen pulls himself to his feet. His hair is longer than it was when he last saw him, and the sea breeze blows it across his eyes. If this were a different time, a different place, Curt would’ve reached out to brush it aside. But in this reality, the thought is sickening.

Curt looks closer at Owen, searching for any reaction. Those eyes, full of remorse, but no regret. Whatever reason Owen had, Torchwood he assumes, Curt has to believe it was a good one. It better be.

Doesn’t change the fact Curt is fucking pissed. He did not waste four years of his life grieving for him, only to find out he’s been frolicking with aliens the whole time.

“Curt, this job has saved the planet more times than I can count.”

Curt simply shakes his head and turns on his heels, storming back towards the tourist office. He’s not going to let this stop him, he’s not going to let Cynthia down. Doesn’t mean he’s not going to be angry ‘cause goddamn he deserves to be.

“Curt, please-”

Curt ignores him, slamming the door to the tourist center closed behind him.

—

“Hi, I’m Barb.”

Curt smiles as a short, blonde woman sticks her hand out to him.

“Curt,” he nods, shaking her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Curt is thankful that Barb is so energetic. It gives him a chance to focus on something other than Owen. He’s going to avoid thinking about that for as long as possible.

“I’m in charge of showing you around, and introducing you to everyone else,” Barb nods as she rifles through what looks like a pile of electronics. Curt doesn’t recognize any of them. “First, you’ll need these.”

Curt fumbles as Barb hands him a large stack of items, trying to balance them all in his arms. “What even is half this stuff?”

“That’s your comm. unit, your PDA, some Torchwood issue weaponry, and the paperwork you’ll have to fill out before you can go out in the field.” Curt raises his eyebrows, Barb spoke far too quickly for him to catch more than a few words.

“I’m going to pretend I understand what you just said.”

“Don’t stress it, you can put your stuff here.”

Curt carefully places his armful of things down on a desk. It’s free of the clutter covering the majority of the others, instead has a simple computer and monitor.

The rest of the day goes by quickly, Barb showing him through what he learns is The Hub. The design is strange, like someone built the first-floor decades ago and has simply been adding new rooms wherever they fit since. However, judging by the countless lower levels Barb mentioned, he’s sure it’s been much longer than a few decades.

He’s also met the rest of the team, all of which seem nice.

Tatiana he met first. To put it simply she’s the scary, Russian, badass field agent. Curt thought she seemed a bit closed off to him at first, but he’s hoping she can warm to him. Judging by how she interacts with Barb, there’s a kind-hearted person hidden behind her tough exterior.

And finally, Irene — the team doctor. She looks eerily similar to Tatiana, but he’s been assured there’s no relation.

Thankfully, Curt didn’t see Owen for the rest of the day. After he came inside, he went straight into the office at the back and hasn’t emerged since.

“So, how do you know Owen?”

“Irene!”

The four of them are sitting in their desk chairs on The Hub’s main floor, just chatting. Barb said something about the Rift being quiet today, though he has no idea how the Rift is measured, or what constitutes a quiet day.

“What? We’re all thinking it.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s right to ask about it.”

Curt sighs. “It’s ok, Barb.” Curt figured they would ask eventually. He did make quite a show storming out this morning, and if Owen is anything how he remembers, he’s not one to hide away all day. “We dated, four years ago.”

Irene snorts, and Curt looks at her in confusion.

“Owen? Dating someone?”

“Yeah, I don’t believe that,” Tatiana scoffs, and Curt looks between them in confusion.

“The Owen we know doesn’t exactly do… dating,” Barb says carefully, and Curt is thankful for her explanation.

“He’s a flirt, I applaud you for managing to tie him down,” Tati scoffs, swiveling around to face her desk. “I’m heading home for the night. Call me if the world ends.”

Curt frowns. Sure, Owen had always been a flirt on the outside, but that had always just been something to hide behind. A defense mechanism even.

Their time in the army had been short, but it was long enough to know that underneath Owen has always been soft at heart. Someone who thrives off personal connection. Has he been hiding that for four years?

“Curt, you ok?”

Curt flinches, looking up to see Barb in front of him. Cynthia’s office light is off, and the only other person still here is Barb.

“Yeah, sorry. Lost in thought.”

“Well, Cynthia told you to stay in one of the guest rooms downstairs until you get an apartment. I’m heading home for the night.” Barb offers him a small smile, and he nods in response.

Watching as the door rolls closed after Barb, Curt squeezes his eyes shut. God, today was too long. He’s barely processed the idea of aliens, let alone Owen.

Fuck. Owen.

What is he supposed to do about that?

I mean, of course he missed Owen. It was hell after he ‘died’, and now he has him back. But it’s been four years. Four years that Curt spent drinking in his mother’s granny flat, and four years Owen spent saving the world.

How more pathetic could he get?

“Curt?”

Speak of the devil.

“Sorry, I was just heading down to the guest room,” Curt sighs, motioning towards the staircase.

Curt watches carefully as Owen leans against his office doorframe. His hair is a mess, strands of it falling in his eyes and others in all sorts of directions. He’s taken off the long coat he had on earlier, leaving him in one of the jackets Curt used to know too well.

This, Curt decides, feels far too familiar.

———

Owen was never supposed to see Curt again. That was the plan. Fake his death and leave before he got too attached. Clearly, he didn’t leave soon enough. Seeing Curt once was enough to throw him straight back to four years ago. Back to hushed moments hidden from the army, hidden from everyone but each other.

And straight back to why Owen left in the first place.

An old friend of his once said immortality isn’t living forever, it’s watching everyone die, and Owen couldn’t agree more.

“Sorry, I was just heading down to the guest room.”

He looks so tired, so lost.

“Can we talk fir-”

“I can’t stay mad at you, Owen.”

Owen raises his eyebrows at the shorter men's outburst, a small smile playing at his lips.

“I was trying to apologize, Mega.”

“I know you Owen, and whatever reason you had to do this...” Curt pauses, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. “I’m sure it was a good one. You don’t need to apologize.”

“So, friends?”

“Friends.”

“Go get some sleep, Curt. You’ll need it.”

And with that, Curt nods, and Owen is left alone.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was originally going to do a chapter per episode but last time I tried to do something similar the chapters got a little too long so I'm just gonna break them up into parts.
> 
> time for things that may help the understanding of the chapter!  
> \- torchwood operates outside the government and police, but is still funded by the crown  
> \- because of this, the army + police arent too fond of them
> 
> and that's p much it! hope you enjoy :)

It’s been one week since Curt joined Torchwood. And it’s been the craziest week of his life. 

He’s pretty much accepted the concept of aliens, and he’s fitting in more and more by the day. 

And most importantly, he and Owen have fallen right back into the easy banter they used to have. If someone had told Curt this is what his life would be like two weeks ago, he probably would’ve punched them. No, definitely would judging by his initial reaction. 

“Curt!” Curt swivels his chair around in response, turning to face Owen as he walks out of his office. “You finished the last of your pre-fieldwork paperwork, right?”

“Owen, I put that in your office for you to sign about three days ago,” Curt laughs, shaking his head slightly. 

Another thing he’s learned in his week here is that Torchwood is the definition of organized chaos. 

“We both know Susan just takes those files straight to Cynthia.”

Curt scoffs, turning back around to face his monitor. “How you’ve managed to run this place for the last four years is beyond me.”

“Probably with my irresistible charm.”

Curt rolls his eyes as Owen runs off, turning his attention back to the file he was reading. He hasn’t been in the field yet, only watched as Owen and Tati leave empty-handed and return with some sort of strange relic or piece of tech. 

“He really is full of himself, isn’t he,” Irene scoffs from the workbench beside him. Irene spends most of her time down in the med bay — or autopsy room, if the subject is dead — spouting words Curt knows he’ll never understand. He’s learned from Barb that she used to work as a surgeon, before her fiance died. Alien involvement, unfortunately. 

“Hey, at least he gets the job done,” Curt smiles, looking over at her. 

“That’s debatable.”

—

Curt wishes he could tug his jacket tighter around himself, anything to stave of the cold evening air. His breath curls in the air ahead of him, and his fingers sting every time he moves them.

His apartment is within walking distance of The Hub and a grocery store, thankfully. However, he’d be a lot more thankful if the weather were on his side too. if Cynthia had told him Cardiff is always this miserable, he might’ve declined her offer. 

Curt swears as his phone begins to ring, and makes quick work off shuffling his grocery bags around in his arms so he can take it out of his pocket.

“This is Mega speaking.”

“Curtis! Why haven’t you called? I had to hear from Cynthia that you’ve moved to Cardiff.”

Curt sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sorry Mom, everything just moved so fast. It was a really good job offer, I couldn’t refuse.”

“Sweetheart, you’re going to be so far away now!”

“I promise I’ll be back for Christmas.”

“You better visit me sooner than that Mr. Mega.”

Curt laughs softly, picking up the pace as he crosses the street. “I will.”

“Now, are you going to tell me about your job?”

“Special Ops, nothing fancy,” Curt shrugs, frowning at himself as he remembers he’s on the phone. “But it’ll probably just be paperwork.”

“I’m happy for you Curt. I know losing Owen was hard, but I know he’d be proud of you.”

If Curt had been paying attention, he probably would’ve made some dismissive remark. But Curt doesn’t even hear what his mother is saying. His eyes are locked on the sky, where a flaming asteroid is flying over the city. Curt swears he can almost feel the heat of the flame against his skin as it rushes overhead, soaring towards the outskirts of town. 

“Listen, Mom, something just came up, I’m going to have to go.”

“Never enough time for your mother,” she tuts as Curt turns around and runs towards his apartment. 

“Love you!”

With great difficulty, Curt takes the phone from his ear and opens his contacts, clicking on the name he’s looking for as he tries not to drop his groceries. 

“Owen, did you see that?”

“Sure did dear, I’m already in the SUV, we’ll swing by your apartment.”

“Wait, is this-”

“Your first field mission? You bet.” Curt can almost hear the smile in the Brits voice as he unlocks his apartment door. He almost sounds more excited than Curt. “See you in a minute.”

Much sooner than a minute later, the Torchwood SUV pulls up outside his apartment, brakes squealing as it skids to a halt. As Curt climbs in, Owen and Barb seem to be in a lighthearted argument, barely acknowledging Curt before taking off again. 

“I swear to god, if you keep driving like that you’re going to kill us!”

“C’mon Barb, you know I would never.”

“You broke about twenty road rules just between here and the Hub.”

“Torchwood is outside the-”

“Government, we know. Doesn’t mean you can double the speed limit.”

Curt zones out as they continue to banter, looking around the company car. Screens and computers cover at least half the surfaces, and various pieces of technology are scattered about. On the seat beside Curt, Barb sits with a computer screen hovering in front of her. Looking carefully, he realizes it appears to be tracking something — most likely the meteor. 

“This is the most decked out car I’ve ever seen,” Curt says as Barb and Owen finally end their argument. 

“Gotta be prepared for everything, dear,” Owen calls back form the front seat, thankfully keeping his eyes on the road. 

“Did we have to take him on this mission?” Tatiana hisses in the front seat, causing Curt to frown. She still seems unsure of him, and Curt is hoping that this mission can help turn that around. 

“We hired a field agent, Tati, not a butler.”

“Take a left up here!” Barb chimes in, thankfully ending the conversation before it could truly begin. Curt sighs, running his thumb over his nails. He can’t mess this up. “Curt, can you check if anyone has reached the scene?”

Curt raises his eyebrows as a screen slides out in front of him, similar to the one in front of Barb.

“I think you might be overkilling it just a bit.” Curt smiles, eyes scanning the information flying past. 

“Better stop saying you, and starting saying we,” Owen retorts teasingly, and Curt rolls his eyes. Curt may be trying to act overconfident, but he already feels out of his depth and they haven’t’ even arrived yet. These guys have all been doing this for years, how is he supposed to keep up?

Minutes later, the SUV slows to a halt, crunching over fallen branches and bark. The trees are dense and combined with the small amount of moonlight, Curt can’t see past the small clearing already crowded by tents. 

“Great, the amateurs beat us here,” Tati grumbles as the group clambers out of the car. Curt frowns, seeing the army already at the crash site. Does she really think she’s better than those soldiers?

“Alright, usual formation,” Owen says as Tatiana shoves a box of equipment into his chest.

“Wait, what’s the usual formation?” Curt watches helplessly as the team walks off, not one of them answering him. In his rush to catch up, he stumbles and drops the equipment box. 

Swearing, he bends down to pick it back up again. He can’t afford to mess this up, not on his first time out in the field. 

Box back in his arms, Curt scans his eyes over the scene. Army officers and soldiers are scattered all through the clearing, but he can’t see any members of Torchwood.  _ Shit.  _

Curt frowns, feeling his panic rising as he continues to scan the area. Eventually, he settles on taking a chance and marches towards the largest tent. 

Pushing open the flaps, Curt instantly flinches back as he’s met with a tall army officer. 

“Who the hell are you?”

“I- I’m with Torchwood!” Curt says frantically, trying to balance the large box in his arms. 

“Don’t mess with me, asshole. Torchwood doesn’t recruit highschool jocks past their prime.”

Curt gapes at the officer blankly, completely lost for words as he tries to think of something to say.  _ Yeah, good job Mega. Mess up your first mission before you can even get to it. _

“Go on, get out-”

“Woah, hold up.” Curt breathes a sigh of release as Owen storms into the tent, his coat billowing behind him. He seems to exude authority, everyone in the room stopping to listen to him. “First of all, he is certainly not past his prime.” Owen sends Curt a small smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Secondly, he is Torchwood, we both are.”

“And we’d appreciate it if you’d let us do our job,” Curt adds, thankful for Owen’s arrival.

Curt grins at the aghast soldiers, turning to take Owen outstretched hand. Owen quickly pulls him out of the tent, but even as they enter the woods leading down to the meteor, he doesn’t drop Curt’s hand. Curt smiles at the feeling, but too scared to tighten his grip in case Owen let’s go. He hates how quickly he’s fallen back into this rhythm with Owen, how badly he wants things to be how they were. Curt knows it’ll never happen again. Four years is a lot to bounce back from, even if Curt hadn’t spent that time thinking Owen was dead. 

“How did you manage to get lost within two minutes of arriving?” Owen grins, and Curt’s chest clenches at his teasing smile. 

Curt scoffs, trying to act nonchalant. “I wasn’t lost-”

“Oh, you so were.”

“Maybe just a little,” Curt grins, and Owen shakes his head in mock disappointment. 

“Let’s see what we came for, yeah?”

Curt’s hand almost feels bare as Owen let’s go, gripping the rope instead as they slowly descend the slope. 

_ It’s been one week and I’m already acting like a fool over him again.  _

Curt can’t lie, he feels very out of place as he watches the team take readings from the meteor. Tati and Barb work closely, scanning and doing all sorts of things that Curt knows he couldn’t understand even if he tried. 

Owen stands to the side, tossing the pair equipment as they need it. 

“Make yourself useful sweetheart,” Tati calls over to Curt, and he clenches his jaw in response. “Pass us that big chisel would you?”

“It’s not ‘sweetheart’, it’s Curt. One syllable, I’m sure you can manage,” Curt retorts, leaning down to pick up the chisel. He has half a mind to make her come and get it herself. 

“Not sweetcheeks? Doe eyes? New guy?” Tati mocks dismissively, barely sparing him a second glance. 

“Tati, stop it,” Barb says, just managing to peer over the meteor with her short stature, “you were new once too.”

“Just hurry up and pass it, would you?”

Curt huffs, picking it up in his fist like a javelin. “Catch.”

In hindsight, Curt realizes that throwing a semi-sharp tool towards an unknown object from space like a javelin probably wasn’t the best idea. 

Curt watches as the chisel hits the rock, causing wide and deep crack as the tool lodges itself in the stone. 

  
Wincing as Tati yells out and a fog-like gas slowly seeps out of the already growing crack, Curt knows he’s fucked up. 

Curt nearly falls over backward as Owen quickly pushes a gas mask onto his face, but manages to catch himself as he watches the rock in awe. 

A pink, almost purple gas slowly rises out of the crack he created, curling into a mystical cloud shape above them. 

Almost as soon as it arrived, the gas seems to collect itself and rise off into the sky, seeming to appear sentient. 

“This is why we shouldn’t have brought him!” Tati yells, dropping her mask now that the gas had gone. 

All Curt can do is look around wide-eyed as the team all stare at him in varying levels of accusation. 

Shit. 

——

“I’m so sorry,” Curt pleads from behind Owen, and Owen quickly turns around, pausing on his way up one of the many staircases in the hub. 

“Curt, I’ve told you that you don’t have to apologize,” Owen says carefully, looking down at him. His eyes are so clearly full of remorse, and Owen wishes he could just wash it away. 

“But I am!” Curt insists, looking over at Tati and Barb. “God I can’t believe I already fucked up.”

“Didn’t they teach you health and safety in the army?” Tati quips, clearly not very happy with him. Owen sends her a pointed look, and she rolls her eyes in response. 

“I- That was four years ago!”

“Still doesn’t excuse throwing a chisel like a javelin! Even if you had have missed the rock it just would’ve hit me!”

“Tati, that’s enough. He’s already apologized,” Owen sighs, watching as Irene slowly emerges from the med bay to take the evidence crate from Tati. 

  
Owen knows this is much of his fault as it is Curt’s. He got ahead of himself, just wanting to take Curt out to the field. He hadn’t even gone over the usual training with him, Hell it took months when Irene first joined to get her field ready, why didn’t he do the same with Curt?

Glancing over at Curt, he sees a determined look in his eye. A look he knows far too well. 

“I’ll sort it,” he says determinately. “Whatever’s happened, I’ll deal with it.”

“Hey! On the upside, at least we’ve got good evidence,” Owen smiles, jogging down the steps to carefully open the create holding the meteor rock. 

“And on the downside, there’s an alien on the loose and we have no idea where it’s going, or what it wants to do,” Tati retorts, sending a pointed glare in Curt’s direction. 

“Give him a break!” Barb snaps, shooing Tati away from the rock. 

Owen’s hyperaware of Curt standing behind him, and he just manages to pick up Curt’s whisper. 

“This has been the worst first mission ever.”

Owen turns around, watching as Curt keeps his eyes on the ground. 

“Everyone makes mistakes, Curt.”

At the mention of his name, Curt quickly lifts his head. 

“You never did.”

Owen laughs, raising an eyebrow. Did Curt seriously think he had never messed up? That couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“No one’s perfect, not even me.” Curt doesn’t look convinced, but Owen knows he can’t waste any more time. Turning to the rest of the team, he quickly forms a plan. “Ok, we need to find and recover whatever came out of the rock, before it can cause any harm.”

Owen turns around as he hears Susan clear their throat from the top of the staircase. 

“Got something for us Susan?”

“There was a nightclub death called in not long ago, circumstances are.., let’s just say unusual.” Owen watches as Curt bounds up the stairs, looking over Susan’s shoulder to read the file. “Might be connected.”

Owen frowns at Curt’s expression, almost a mix of shock, repulsion, and interest. 

“So Mega,” he grins, “think it’s worth checking out?”

“I’d say so,” Curt nods, glancing up at Owen briefly. His brow is still furrowed, and eventually Owen lets curiosity get the better of him. 

“Pass the file down, would you dear?”

Instead of simply throwing the clipboard down, Curt leans over to carefully place the file in Owen’s grip. Owen raises an eyebrow at him, but all Curt does in response is shake his head gently. 

Sighing, Owen looks down at the file, but pauses as he reads the summary.  _ Now _ he understands the look on Curt’s face. 

“Susan, start up the SUV. We’re going to the nightclub.”


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! if anyone's interested, i'm part of a spies are forever discord server! everyone is welcome to join using [this link](https://discord.gg/wkWyBrd)
> 
> now, onto the things that are helpful to know for this chapter!  
> \- the plot of the episode is hard to describe without straying from the character-based elements, but i promise the later chapters are more character-centric

Pulling up to the nightclub, Curt watches as Owen jumps out of the car as soon as possible, leaving Tati to park it. 

“Is he always this reckless?” Curt asks, waiting for the SUV to slow down before opening his door. 

“You’ve only seen the half of it,” Barb explains, grabbing her PDA from beside her. 

Jogging to catch up with him, Curt can’t help but over-analyze. Cynthia had mentioned how dangerous this job could be, how had Owen lived this long whilst acting so careless? Surely this kind of behavior is nothing but self-destructive. 

Curt doesn’t get the chance to think about it further, as he’s stopped at the door by someone calling his name. It takes him a moment to realize it’s Evan Davies, another guy from back in the army. What the hell is he doing in Cardiff? And working for the police no less. 

“Curt Mega? You’re with Torchwood?”

“Uh, hi!” Curt says awkwardly, trying to smile while being all too aware of the others entering the club without him. This is his mistake, he wants to be the one to fix it. Meaning he certainly doesn’t want to get left behind. “What are you doing here?”

“Had to move away not long after you left, grandpa needed someone to deliver groceries and such-”

“Wait, you’ve known about Owen for four years and never called me?” Curt says quickly, realizing Evan had barely blinked when Owen had walked past. How many people knew whilst Curt was left in the dark? 

“I’ve been working as a Torchwood police informant, he said if I keep quiet about him being alive and give them police information, they might hire me one day.”

  
Curt frowns. If they already had someone on the waiting list, why did they hire Curt?

“Dear, are you coming or not?”

Curt turns away from Evan, looking down the stairs leading to the nightclub. Owen stands at the bottom, looking at him expectantly. 

  
“Sorry Evan, I have to go-”

“Wait, they hired you?”

Curt doesn’t wait for Evan to finish, quickly dashing down the stairs to meet Owen. 

“Everything ok?” Owen asks carefully, slowing Curt from going any further by placing a hand on his forearm. 

“Why did you hire me before Evan?” Curt asks carefully, looking up at Owen carefully. He watches as Owen smiles softly. 

“We need a police informant, and he’s not cut out for Torchwood. This way, we get intel and he gets close to Torchwood. A pretty good compromise if I say so myself.” Owen pauses, looking at Curt carefully. “But that’s not what you wanted to ask, is it.”

It’s not a question, but a statement. And he’s right. 

“Why did you till Evan you were alive and not me?” As Curt speaks, Owen looks away and drops his hand from Curt’s arm. Curt has no idea what he’s feeling, whether it’s fear, regret, annoyance, or something else entirely. And it scares him. He used to be able to know exactly what Owen was thinking, what he was planning. Now he’s in the dark. 

“Owen, we need you in here.” 

He doesn’t even look back before following Tati into the nightclub, leaving Curt standing alone. 

—

Watching the security footage in the club, Curt is more than uncomfortable. 

The whole team — along with the security guard — stand in uneasy silence as the two figures in the tape continue to shag in the club bathroom. Curt’s just thankful he didn’t look away as the young man reaches his climax. To put it simply, it certainly wasn’t what he was expecting to see. 

“What the hell just happened,” Tati murmurs, and Curt has to agree. 

Curt leans forward to rewind, just a few seconds. Just long enough to see the man turn into what looks like a cloud of glitter. The girl gasps as the glitter — energy Curt supposes — absorbs into herself, leaving the man as nothing more than a pile of ash on the floor. 

Curt barely has the chance to absorb the information he just saw before the entire team is running out of the room, leaving Curt trailing behind. 

“Barb, I need you to fake his death. Take a body from the cryo chambers. Tati, go and deal with the police, tell them it’s just a misunderstanding. Curt, you’re with me.”

“You have a stash of  _ bodies _ ?” Curt almost yells, jogging to keep up with Owen’s fast pace and long stride. “Why do you have a cryo chamber?” 

“Again with the ‘you’, Curt. Starting saying we.”

Curt rolls his eyes, still following Owen as he waves a small yellow device around. “What are you doing, anyway?”

“There were similar readings to the meteor crash site inside the club, and it only gets stronger out here.”

Curt huffs in relief as Owen finally slows to a halt as they reach an empty alleyway just off the street the Club’s entrance is on. “So they’re strongest here? The gas must’ve passed through.”

Owen nods, facing away from Curt. “You’re right.” 

Curt watches the back of his head, wishing he would turn around and face them. He’s seemed off, ever since the conversation in the hallway. Had Curt pushed him too far by asking that question? Curt sighs, shaking his head; he can’t worry about that now. He has to stop this alien, and he has to stop it fast. Which means first, he has to find out what it is, and what it was doing here. 

Curt scans the area, praying to see any clue, any lead. Anything that could help him right his mistake. That’s when he spots it. 

“Owen, there’s a security camera up there,” Curt says quickly, pointing to the small camera adorning the wall. Judging by its angle, it should cover most of the alleyway. 

“Nice find,” Owen grins, turning to face Curt for just a brief moment before turning, and dashing out of the alleyway just as fast as he entered. 

——

Watching over the second lot of security footage, Owen can almost feel Curt begin to tense up, but he can’t bring himself to look away from the screen. 

He watches as the same girl from the bathroom stands in the alleyway they were in mere seconds ago, watches as the gas from the meteor slowly enters her through the mouth. Alien possession, rare but not unheard of. Already killed one, and most likely will kill again. Owen doesn’t recognize the species, but judging by the timestamp of the security footage it must not be able to survive outside a host for long. 

“This is my fault,” Curt says for what feels like the millionth time in the last 24 hours, and Owen feels the urge to shake it out of him. Instead, he keeps his distance. Curt’s question about the police informant had just reminded him of why he had left him in the first place. He can’t make the same mistakes again. 

“No it’s not-”

  
“No, it is,” Curt insists, turning to look at Owen, “and that man died last night, because of my mistake.” Owen feels his chest constrict at the look of pain on Curt’s face, the look of anguish. “We can’t let her kill again.”

“We won’t, ok?” Owen sighs, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.  _ So much for keeping his distance. _ “We can fix this, together.”

——

Back at the hub, Curt can’t help but feel useless. 

All he’s doing is standing around and  _ waiting  _ and he hates it. He feels like he should be off doing something, instead he’s sitting down and waiting for the facial recognition program to run, and watching as Owen tries to figure out what region of space the meteor came from. 

“My ex-boyfriend did that with lorries,” Curt eventually says, hating the oppressive silence. He almost regrets speaking as he receives a strange look from Owen. He almost looks upset. 

“You have a boyfriend?” Barb asks from her desk, clearly not having been paying attention to the conversation. 

“ _ Ex _ -boyfriend,” Owen finishes for him, and Curt raises his eyebrows. 

“What’s got you all pissy,” Tati scoffs, swiveling around in her chair to face the group. 

“Nothing,” Owen scoffs, turning back to his screen, “just correcting Barb.”

Curt grins, leaning against the doorframe to Owen’s office, facing outwards towards the workstations. “You know, you’ve been gone for four years. It’s not like you were the last person I dated.” His tone is lighthearted, teasing even. Or at least that’s what he intended. 

Owen whips around, and Curt takes a step back in surprise. He’s upset, and Curt can’t imagine what about. 

“Did you have to tell them that?”

“I told them like a week ago-”

“Why would you do that?” Curt is taken aback at the pain in his eyes. Why was this so upsetting to him? The only reason Curt can imagine that he’s upset is because of his reputation, but surely that wouldn’t cause this reaction. 

“They asked! What was I supposed to say?” Curt scoffs, pushing himself off the doorframe. “And it was four years ago, what difference does it make now?”

“What, it just meant nothing to you?”

Curt gapes at him, his anger rising as he takes in what he just said. Owen, the one who abandoned him, is accusing Curt of moving on. 

“Says you! You let me think you were dead for  _ four years _ !”

“Jesus, Curt,” Owen mutters, pushing past him to get to his office. Curt flinches as it slams closed, just barely missing the back of his head. 

Curt stands, dumbfounded for what feels like hours, before forcing a smile to his face. “I’m going to go review the face recognition,” he eventually says, pointing awkwardly towards the computer desk. Forcing himself to ignore the eyes boring into the back of his skull, Curt throws himself into his work. He can’t let this alien kill another, not when it’s his fault it was released. And he has to admit, he would much rather focus on work than whatever mood Owen is in. 

—

“Curt! We’ve got an address!”

Curt jumps up from his chair as Tatiana calls from the main computer. “I’ll go check it out, anyone want to come?”

Curt tenses as soon as Owen leaves his office. It’s the first time he’s come out since his outburst earlier, and he has no idea what to expect. 

“No one is going anywhere without protective clothing and gas masks,” he warns, “I’m not having any of you get  _ possessed. _ ” Curt catches the gear Irene tosses towards him, eyeing Owen carefully as he does so. He desperately wants to talk to him, yell at him, shake some sense into him. He hates how delicate Owen is, how he reacts at every mention of their shared past. Had Curt made a mistake staying at Torchwood? “Susan! Bring the SUV around, everyone else meet in the garage,” Owen continues, leaving his signature coat in his office. 

Curt sighs. For now, he’ll just have to put up with it. This mission is too urgent. 

It’s barely minutes later that they’re rocking up to the girl’s house — Carys they discovered her name was — brandishing guns and quickly surrounding her. Curt thanks whatever deity is listening that they arrived when they did. Judging by the way she’s straddling the postman, they got here just in time to save his life. 

“Get out, now!” Owen yells at the postman, and Curt doesn’t lower his gun as he runs out behind him. He vaguely registers Irene following him, but Curt pushes the thought aside. He’s not going to take his eyes off the girl. 

“Air quality’s clear,” Barb says, removing her mask quickly. Curt hesitates. Does he remove the mask and lose his sight on the girl, or keep it on and risk it interfering later? Eventually, the former wins, and he quickly pulls the mask off. 

“Curt! Look out!”

_ Fuck. _

Curt spins around, reaching for his gun — but he’s too late. Again. Curt stumbles back as Carys pushes past him in his moment of distraction. He winces as his back collides with the wall, but he has no time to process it as the girl dashes the door. 

He can’t let her get away, not after they came this close. 

Pushing himself off the doorframe, Curt sprints down the hallway. Just when she’s within his reach — Curt freezes. Out of nowhere, a bubble rises from the ground, encasing her. Curt’s afraid to touch it, but he’s certain the girl is trapped. 

“What the fuck is that?” Curt looks the bubble in front of him and notices it seems to be stemming from a small metal device on the floor. If this is Earth technology, it’s certainly not from this time. He’s never seen anything like it. 

“An inflatable cell,” Irene states proudly, a cocky smirk pulling at her lips. If Curt wasn’t so thankful she had fixed his mistake, he would’ve found it obnoxious.

“And who said you could use that?” Owen snaps. Curt flinches, hearing Owen’s authoritative voice close behind him. 

“Uh, I just stopped a prisoner from escaping?”

“You know the rules, none of that tech leaves the hub without Cynthia or I’s consent!”

“Fine, don’t thank me.”

Curt rolls his eyes at Irene’s behavior as Owen retracts the portable cell with a strange device on his wrist. Standing to the side, Curt keeps out of the way as Barb handcuffs the girl and takes her to the car. 

Frowning, Curt watches as the others follow — leaving the device on the ground. Scooping the cool metal into his hand, Curt slips it into his pocket before joining the others by the SUV. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

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End file.
